Mlada punca, mogoče premlada, se zaplete s poročenim moškim.
We sat on the stairs for a while, I and this feline beauty which soon revealed herself to be slightly older than I first presumed – closer to twenty, perhaps even older, I’m sure. And if she was not necessarily my own age, which I agree would be more appropriate, she was neither a child without agency of her own, and therefore she was quite capable, if the situation arose, to hurt me and storm away into the night. Or stay behind and converse with a gentleman that offered nothing but his knowledge of this peculiar world. She stayed. And I took this as a sign of a curious spirit, willing to experience the finer qualities of life. It wasn’t long before we were walking up to her garret atop the narrow house.